Page 64 of Choosing Forever
“You. It was you. Itisyou.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Can we get back in the car and talk about this while we eat? Your milkshake is going to be just flavoured milk if we stand out here any longer.”
With a ball in my throat, I force myself to turn around, taking in his sudden closeness. There’s a tug somewhere deep in my chest that demands I crumple against him and allow him the opportunity to carry the weight of some of the pain I’ve been carrying. I deny it again, kicking it into a cage with a heavy, keyless lock.
“Showing up with my favourite milkshake wasn’t going to win you forgiveness,” I say.
A dull flame of humour sparks in the depths of his eyes. “Worth a shot.”
“What kind of cheeseburger did you bring me?”
He answers immediately. “A double with extra cheese and pickles and no mustard or onion.”
Shit. Of course he remembers the way I like my burgers. Screw it all to hell, but all of this remembering is starting to pick at me. It’s one thing for him to claim that he remembers everything about me and another to prove it over and over again.
When I told him he had to earn the chance to talk about things the first time he showed at the school, I wasn’t expecting him to do it this way, nor for it to actually work. Maybe I’m just lonely. Way lonelier than I thought I’d been. That seems like an explanation I can live with. Especially when the alternative is me still being so weak for this man that I’m giving in because of a double cheeseburger and milkshake.
“You can have one hour. I mean it. No longer than that,” I say.
“Deal.”
“And there better be extra-salty fries in that bag too.”
His grin is instant, unabashed.Almost downright cocky.
My stomach tumbles, and I know I’m in trouble.
21
TWELVE YEARS AGO
DELANEY
I stareacross the room at where my new roommate is staring back at me, her face flat.
We’ve been sitting like this since I got all of my things brought in and began to unpack. The dorm room is small for two people, but it could always be worse. Or that’s what I thought before this girl appeared.
In all honesty, I’m just assuming she’s my roommate. She sat on the bed confidently, like she owned it, so I figured that this was the Brooklyn whose name was written on the whiteboard on the door. If she’s not, then I probably shouldn’t move, anyway. Best not to spook her . . .
“Your name is Delaney?” she asks bluntly, the deep blue of her eyes lacking any sort of emotion.
My head snaps back in surprise. “Yes. Are you Brooklyn?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t like people in my space. Would you like me to draw a line between our beds?”
“Uh, no, I don’t plan on touching your bed.”
She squints at me, unimpressed. “I’ll draw a line.”
“Alright. Go for it,” I relent.
“Rules.”
